


pretty

by venomondenim



Series: 2020 Xmas Gifts [3]
Category: Iron Man 3 (2013), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Blowjobs, College, Coming In Pants, Drunk Sex, Grinding, Hickeys, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Lingerie, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex, Panties, Praise Kink, Questionable Consent, Smut, Underage Drinking, both characters are overage, boys in panties, consent after the fact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28608240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomondenim/pseuds/venomondenim
Summary: Harley noticed things. He had always noticed things. Ever since he had been a kid, his Ma had always told him that he was a ‘devil for details’. So of course he noticed Peter.He couldn’tnotnotice Peter.He noticed how smart he was, instantly, when they met. Peter had asked what he was working on as soon as they had been introduced in the lab, then had rambled off a trail of ideas that were genius, ones that Harley hadn’t eventhoughtof. After that, it hadn’t been hard to notice him. He took little notes in his head, like Peter was a test he was cramming for, or like a science project he had to get just right.In all of that Peter Parker research, he learned how Peter liked his coffee, what Peter was majoring in, that he loved his Aunt with such a fierce intensity it was nearly unmatched, and that he was as kind as he was smart. (Peter wouldn’t leave anyone behind and believed in second, and third, and fourth chances, and gave more thought to people’s feelings than Harley ever did.)Harley noticed all of those things, but amongst those, he couldn’t help but notice something else.Peter worepanties.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Series: 2020 Xmas Gifts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066580
Comments: 7
Kudos: 225





	pretty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TellMeNoAgain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/gifts).



> Thanks to [Livvi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivviBee/pseuds/LivviBee) for the quick beta job, even though the world was falling apart. Your cheer-reading comments were about 80% of the reason it got finished. You're the best <3
> 
> Now onto [CJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain). Where do I even begin? I'm always bad at putting things eloquently when they matter. You've kind of taken me under your wing in this fandom space, and I couldn't be more grateful. This was supposed to be for Christmas, and then for New Year’s, and now it’s a week late. It needed some time to fester, and I’m really happy you were so patient and encouraging. It was so so so hard keeping this fic a secret from you, ‘cause I wanted to blabber on about it to you so bad! We can squeal about it now, lol. Thanks for giving me my own room, it's really comfy in there. I love you lots. I hope you like this, I worked really hard on it. <3 <3 <3
> 
> accompanying playlist:  
> \- [2 by H.E.R.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tNRePK_2blI)  
> \- [Drew Barrymore by Sza](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MA4ygKnfqOw)  
> \- [Prom by Sza](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=caa2IfgCYeM)  
> \- [Slow Dancing by Aly and AJ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_obvnE-71uo)  
> \- [Achilles, Come Down by Gang of Youths](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5aMav6q-o0)

🎀

Harley noticed things. He had always noticed things. Ever since he had been a kid, his Ma had always told him that he was a ‘devil for details’. So of course he noticed Peter. 

He couldn’t _not_ notice Peter. 

He noticed how smart he was, instantly, when they met. Peter had asked what he was working on as soon as they had been introduced in the lab, then had rambled off a trail of ideas that were genius, ones that Harley hadn’t even _thought_ of. After that, it hadn’t been hard to notice him. He took little notes in his head, like Peter was a test he was cramming for, or like a science project he had to get just right. 

In all of that Peter Parker research, he learned how Peter liked his coffee (black, no cream, with enough sugar to give anyone a cavity just thinking about it.), what Peter was majoring in (Biochemistry and Chemical Engineering, even though Mechanical Engineering had been a toss-up.), that he loved his Aunt with such a fierce intensity it was nearly unmatched (he wouldn’t do a single thing she didn’t like, and he was always home for dinner, even if there were literal Avengers who wanted his time instead. There were no exceptions. It was dinner with Aunt May or nothing else.), and that he was as kind as he was smart. (Peter wouldn’t leave anyone behind and believed in second, and third, and fourth chances, and gave more thought to people’s feelings than Harley ever did.) 

Harley noticed all of those things, but amongst those, he couldn’t help but notice something else. 

Peter wore panties. 

It had his mind reeling whenever he focused on it for too long. And they were girl panties, too. They weren’t the black thong that he had jokingly said he wore under the Spider-Man costume one time. No. They were pink, sometimes, or frilly, or even occasionally, _lacey_.

And okay, it wasn’t like Harley was a creep, either. He just saw them. It had been a complete accident the first time- Peter had bent down to grab something on a low shelf in the lab. His jeans had slid down precariously until they revealed a strip of bright purple lace. Harley had stopped dead in his tracks, but Peter hadn’t noticed. He had just handed Harley the tool he had been scavenging for with a small smile, and pulled his shirt down inconspicuously while Harley had been in the middle of a life crisis. 

Harley hadn’t said anything. It wasn’t his place. Peter could wear whatever he wanted, and it surely wasn’t any of Harley’s business. He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, or feel insecure, either. So, Harley had added it to a new list in his mind, the one specifically for things he was going to force himself to _not notice_. 

🎀

Of course, things fell apart, because that was just Harley’s life. 

🎀

Harley didn’t go to parties often. It wasn’t really his scene. He didn’t really drink, either, but they had all gotten through midterms by the skin of their teeth and needed breaks desperately. Somehow, Peter and MJ had tag-teamed, using their way-too-practiced wiles of manipulation to persuade Harley into going to a party on campus. Ned, Betty, and Gwen were all going as well. Harley had acted more affronted about it than he really was. He had already resigned himself to go the moment that Peter had sicced his brown eyes onto him. 

That’s how Harley had ended up in the corner of a crowded frat house with a drink in hand. He had lost most of the crew once they had taken their entry shots when they arrived. He was definitely feeling a buzz, especially with the beer he had choked down earlier thrown on top. He had some sort of mixed drink in his cup that smelled close to lethal, so that meant it had to be fun-juice, right? The room was a bit spinny, so Harley wasn’t entirely sure. 

He stood in the corner for a while, until he felt like an awkward wallflower, and wanted to find his friends again. Harley had just started to wonder if all of his friends had become magicians - because they were way too good at disappearing - when he stumbled through the sliding glass door and found Peter on the back deck. 

“How long have you been out here?” Harley asked as he sat down next to him.

“Not a long time,” Peter said, and knocked his ankle against Harley’s foot. He titled his head back and forth, like he was thinking of what to say. “My senses got kind of,” he made a gesture with his hand that mimicked something blowing up. “It’s quieter out here.” 

“It is,” Harley confirmed, and stretched out his limbs, making himself more comfortable. His legs and arms felt heavy from the alcohol, but it was kind of good. It made him warm and relaxed. 

Peter blew out a breath. “Plus, there was this girl hitting on me, and I kind of just...wanted her to leave me alone.”

“You could’ve tapped that, if you wanted.” Harley offered, not even knowing why he had to throw that option out there. “You’re breaking hearts, Parker,” he joked. 

Peter rolled his eyes, then sighed heavily. “I guess. I wasn’t really prepared for that tonight.” 

Harley chewed on that piece of information for a while. His brain told him that it was important, but it took him a minute to figure out why. Then it all clicked. Peter was wearing the girl underwear that night. He had to be. He probably hadn’t wanted the girl to see. Peter looked small, all hunched over, and mouth in a tight line. It didn’t sit right with Harley.

So, because he was drunk, and couldn’t keep his mouth shut, he said, “The blue ones are my favorite.” 

“What?” Peter sputtered, and he laughed a little, like there had been a joke there he hadn’t understood.

Harley could only dig his grave deeper. “The purple ones are a close second, though.” 

Peter went still. He looked over at Harley with wide eyes. “You-” he croaked, then, “Harley-” he said, his voice breaking at the end. 

Peter leaned back onto his elbows, and Harley decided to press his luck. He licked his lips. “Can I see? Will you- can I see?” 

Peter gave him the tiniest nod, flicking his chin, so Harley reached over and popped open the top button of his jeans. He hadn’t even realized he had been holding his breath, or that his blood was rushing in his ears until he slowly unzipped Peter’s zipper. “Shit, Peter,” it came out breathier than he had intended, and he felt Peter shudder. 

Every inch revealed was like slowly unwrapping a Christmas present. Harley started tugging Peter’s jeans down then carefully, so that they slid off his hips. The pair that Peter was wearing that night were ones that he hadn’t gotten a glimpse of before. They were hot pink, so aggressively so that they nearly glowed in the dimmed lighting from outside. They also had two tiny black bows- one over each hip. 

Harley leaned down and pressed his lips to Peter’s stomach, only about an inch above the waistband of the panties. “Oh fuck,” Peter had gasped, as one of his hands had come down to tangle in Harley’s hair, effectively holding him there, against Peter’s stomach, so he couldn’t move. Not that he wanted to. 

Harley placed sloppier, and sloppier kisses along Peter’s stomach and hips while he felt Peter harden, just a bit beneath his chin. Peter’s abs jumped with each kiss as his grip on Harley’s hair tightened. “Harley-” Peter whined, squirming, and woah, that was hot. 

Harley brought one of his hands up to curl around Peter’s hip, and keep him still. He nipped at Peter’s hip with his teeth, initially as a warning, but Peter keened, and bucked his hips so hard it gave Harley ideas. He sucked a bruise into Peter’s pale skin, right above the waistband of the panties as Peter’s head fell back, clacking onto the wooden deck beneath them. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-” he chanted, as Harley held him steady. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Harley said into Peter’s skin, tasting it in his mouth. 

“Yeah?” Peter hiccuped, like he was unsure.

“So gorgeous, babydoll,” Harley reiterated, pressing his thumb into one of his latest marks. Peter was so hard he was leaking into his panties. Harley could see the wet stain blooming. Harley trailed lower so that he mouthed over Peter’s bulge, getting the panties even wetter with his spit. 

Peter gasped for air, ragged and sharp, like he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. He whimpered, and it was like music to Harley’s ears. “So fucking pretty,” Harley said inbetween kisses back onto Peter’s abdomen. “Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Peter had made a wounded sound then. “Baby?” Harley inquired, but he barely got it out before Peter’s hips jerked and Harley watched him come, making a mess all over his panties, which were now wrecked. Harley hadn’t had much warning, but that was okay, watching Peter fall apart had been hot enough to make it hard for him to think. 

Peter’s head fell back again, but this time he stayed down and stared unblinking at the sky. Harley looked up from his stomach and saw that Peter's eyes were glazed and unfocused; he paled.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his arousal seeping away. 

“I-” Peter said, then swallowed. Harley tracked his throat bobbing. “I’m really drunk,” he finally got out, and Harley’s stomach dropped down to his toes. He pulled back abruptly, and broke all points of contact. 

“I should go,” Harley croaked.

“What?” Slipped out from Peter, and he was definitely slurring. Harley could notice it now. He felt sick. Peter reached down and started tugging at his jeans, like he was suddenly aware that he was exposed and there was a party right inside. Harley’s hands twitched, and he went to go help him, but he flinched back at the last second. 

“Is someone gonna take you home?” Harley found himself asking, dumbly.

“I was gonna get a ride with MJ, cause Ned’s plastered. Why?” Peter asked, and now he was frowning. 

“That’s good,” Harley choked out, and clumsily got to his feet. God, Peter was _drunk_. And Harley had just taken advantage of him like a creep, all because the underwear he wore sometimes got him hot. He was just as bad, if not worse, than the girl who Peter hadn’t wanted to show them to. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that Peter wore them for anyone but himself, and Harley had just objectified him. “I’m gonna go walk back to the dorms.” Harley said, not able to meet Peter’s eyes.

“Oh,” Peter said, sounding confused. Harley wanted to tell him that _he_ was the fuck up, not Peter. Never Peter. But he couldn’t get his voice to work, and his hands were shaking.

Harley pushed through the sweaty bodies of the people at the party until he got through the front door and out onto the street. Their dorms were on the other side of the campus, but Harley needed the walk. 

As he walked, he imagined all the worst case scenarios that would happen the next day. Their whole friend’s group would hate him, which is what he deserved. Peter would probably never talk to him again, but, he deserved that too. 

When he got back to his room, he stumbled into the joint bathroom. He wasn’t as drunk as he had been, but he wasn’t sober yet either. He was flushed, and sweaty. His stomach rolled, but he couldn’t find the energy to throw up. He stared at his face in the mirror, until he ran his fingers through his hair and had to look away. 

He exited the bathroom, and needed to get out of his clothes. His skin was itchy and dirty, morphed over his bones, and didn’t fit quite right. He shucked off his jeans, his legs wobbly, and eventually got his shirt and jacket off. When he was tugging on a new shirt to sleep in it got stuck on his head, and he bumped into his desk, knocking several things over in his wake. “Fuck,” he cursed, as he heard his roommate waking up.

“Harley?” His roommate inquired sleepily, and sat up in his bed. “What the fuck, dude? Are you drunk?” 

“Yeah,” He said. He was too tired, and saw no point in denying it. “I didn’t mean to make so much noise.” 

“It’s okay, man,” his roommate said, followed by, “But you should really go to bed.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Harley bit out, then took a shaky breath. 

He climbed into his bed, and pulled the covers over his head. He could hear his roommate rolling over in his bed. Harley tried to fall asleep himself, but all he could think about was how he felt like his fucking Father. And he didn’t know how to deal with that. 

🎀

The next morning when Harley woke up, he didn’t have any trouble throwing up. 

🎀

Harley spent the rest of the weekend in his dorm as much as possible. He only left to go to his classes, and then would come back. He didn’t talk to anyone, and made sure to avoid everyone in their group. The only ones he actually shared classes with were Ned and Peter.

Ned was in his one coding class that met on Tuesday mornings. Harley took his time so that he arrived right before class started. He slipped into his seat and kept his head down. As soon as the professor released them he was out of his seat and onto his next class. He used the same tactic during his Chemistry 104 lab class with Peter. It was easy enough to not look at him and not make any contact. Even when some of the students started mingling during their lab assignment, Harley was staunch in focusing on him and his partner’s experiment. 

Sometimes he thought he could feel Peter’s eyes on his back, but, he couldn’t handle that, so he kept far away.

He went to class. Avoided all his friends. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. 

🎀

MJ was the one who cornered him. He should have planned better around her witchy ways. He cursed when he stepped out of his Physics lecture and MJ was hot on his heels. 

“Keener,” She said with no inflection, but Harley could tell she was pissed. 

“Jones,” Harley intoned, and tried to use his long legs to out-pace her. 

It didn’t work, and her hair only bounced furiously at his attempt, if that was even possible. “Was checking for proof of life, since you dropped off the planet.” 

“Just busy,” Harley replied, scanning over her head, desperately looking for a way out. It didn’t look like he was gonna find one any time soon so he sighed, resigned. “I just got caught up, you know.” 

“I know two things, actually,” MJ said dryly. “One, you fell off the radar, and two, it was the same time that Peter started acting all sulky.”

That stopped him. “Peter’s been sulky?” Harley asked, and wanted to smack himself for so obviously giving himself away.

“ _Yes_. Boys are so dumb. Whatever happened, just talk to him about it.” MJ told him, like it was that easy. 

Harley shook his head. “Peter doesn’t want to talk to me.” 

MJ made a face. “What does _that_ mean?” 

“I gotta go,” Harley said, moving past her. His throat dried and his chest ached whenever he thought about Peter, and this conversation was only dragging it all back up. He almost wished Peter had gone ahead and told everyone what had happened, that way everyone would know. MJ probably wouldn’t be instructing him to work things out if she knew, he was sure of it. She would be backing away in disgust. 

“You’ve got issues, Keener!” He heard her yell from behind him.

And yeah, trust him. She didn’t have to point it out - he already was well-aware. 

🎀

On Wednesday, in between two of his scheduled lab times he decided to pop into the dining hall to grab something to eat. It was relatively deserted. He picked out a sandwich and a drink without much thought, and went over to the lady at the register to swipe his student card. As he grabbed his receipt and was on his way out, he looked up and made direct eye contact with Peter and Ned, who had come through the front double-doors. 

Ned spotted him, but Peter hadn’t turned towards him yet, too caught up in what he was saying. Harley averted his gaze, and threw his wrapped sandwich into his bag. He didn’t deserve to look at Peter. 

He didn’t know if Peter and Ned were coming closer, or if they had gotten a table instead. It didn’t matter, because Harley had to get out. Peter didn’t need his lunch with Ned ruined by presence. He could deal with Peter never wanting to see him again as long as he didn’t have to process Peter hating him. He couldn’t take it if Peter hated him. 

With that in mind, he shuffled out of the dining hall, head low, making sure not to glance their way the entire time.

🎀

Arguably the worst moment of Harley’s relatively short life happened on a Thursday. 

He had just gotten out of one of his lectures and was making his way through the building to get to the ground floor. He was rushing, not paying attention to where he was going, when he rounded a corner. 

Inexplicably, at the other end of the corner, down a few staircases, was Peter. He glanced up at Harley’s sudden frantic motions, and froze. Harley froze too, awkwardly almost missing a step so he had to grab onto the railing. 

Peter stared up at him for a collection of seconds, before he ducked his head, turned on his heel, and clanked down the few steps he had gone up. He pushed through the door, and left the building, probably wanting to put as much space between him and Harley as he could get. 

Harley felt like the most terrible person alive. 

🎀

Two weeks. 

It went on like that for two weeks. Every time that Peter or Harley would run into each other, Peter would duck out. It got to the point that Harley started turning the other way whenever he so much as caught a glimpse of Peter. He at least would give him the kindness of saving him the trouble of having to leave every time Harley so happened to invade his space. 

It hurt losing his friends, too. 

They had all messaged him, or reached out in one way or another. Harley wanted to reach out and tell them that it was nothing that they did. Harley was the monster in the equation. He was the Big Bad Wolf who couldn’t resist Red Riding Hood, and now he was paying the price. It wouldn’t be fair for Harley to keep any of them, they were all Peter’s friends after all. They had simply been indulging him because Peter vouched for him, Harley could admit that, and now he had fucked up the only true friendship that he had. 

One thing was for certain, he knew nobody would defend him if they knew what he had done. He just couldn’t figure out why Peter was sparing him by not letting everyone know. He wouldn’t even have to say anything about the underwear he had been wearing, Harley wouldn’t say anything. God, he would _never_ \- Peter had to _know_ that he would never-

He usually stopped that train of thoughts in its tracks, because he wasn’t sure he could claim to know any one of Peter’s thoughts anymore, not after what he had done. 

🎀

It all came to a head nearly three weeks on the dot post the Party Debacle. 

Harley had been busy, mostly reverting back into a hermit. He went to his lectures, he went to the lab whenever he had access, and then eventually made his way back to his dorm so he could crash. He itched to go to the coffeeshop on the corner of the north side of the campus, the one that they always all met at Friday afternoons because that’s when everyone happened to be free from classes. He wanted to go to the library, the big nice one that was right next to the dining hall, and not the one on the East side of campus that was tiny, and stuffy. 

But the big nice library was Peter’s domain. Almost every time Harley would go in it Peter would be curled up in the one corner, a little ways down from the rows of computers. Half the time he’d be fast asleep, drooling onto his backpack which he consistently used as a makeshift pillow. Harley wondered if he wandered in there, if Peter would be there, and if he would be asleep. 

When Harley passed the library, he kept walking. 

🎀

Harley was in the lab - because he was rarely not in the lab nowadays. He had his coding PC up and running, and was working on a program that he was trying to pinpoint the glitches in. His refurbished MacBook was up on the other side of the table, and he would occasionally pull things up on it with his one free hand. 

The desk chair he had been using for the past few weeks, the one that was always by his setup and had been designated as his, was currently driving him crazy with a squeaky wheel. It was slowly chipping away at his patience. He was just about to flip it over, and actually had a spare screwdriver in-between his teeth, when the loud sound of the door popping open startled him. 

“Are you sure this is the right one? I thought this was-” He heard Peter’s voice a handful of seconds before he saw him come into the lab room uncertainly. As soon as he made eye contact with Harley, his eyes went wide and he went to go back up. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were…” he said hastily, trailing off in the end. He turned, probably to leave, but the door behind him abruptly closed, leaving him pressed against it. Harley then heard the tell-tale sound of a lock flipping over. He raised a brow, he didn’t even know that the lab doors _could_ lock. 

“Uh-” Harley said helpfully, dropping the screwdriver.

“MJ, this isn’t funny, unlock the door.” 

“No way, losers,” Harley heard MJ say, muffled through the door. “You’re not getting out until you talk.” 

“MJ, c’mon!” Peter yelled, raising his voice properly.

Harley felt sick.

“MJ, unlock the door, he doesn’t wanna be in here with me.” Harley called out, his voice going a little hoarse. 

Peter tensed, then looked at him. “Why would you say that? What are you going to do, hurt me?” 

Harley was sure his face was ashen, and it was like all of his blood left his body, and his lungs had no air. “I never want to hurt you, Peter, never.” Harley said, but it came out all crackly, and wrong. He could see Peter, but the room was tunneling. 

“Harley?” Peter called out distantly, and he sounded worried. “Hey, Harley? Are you- what’s..? I know you’d never hurt me, _Harley_.”

Harley could feel himself shaking his head, it was hard to get awareness over his body, and uncooperative limbs. It felt like he was having a panic attack, but he was also paralyzed. 

“Can I touch you?” Peter’s voice asked, a little closer. 

Harley choked out, “I don’t know why you’d want to.” 

Peter’s arms around him were like a lifeline. Harley was underwater, and Peter’s arms were pulling him back up to the surface so he could breathe again. Almost as soon as he was able to talk again he chanted, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Peter, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Shhh,” Peter soothed, his arms tight around him. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

“It’s not okay,” Harley rasped, unsure as to how he had gotten Peter’s arms around him, or why he was doling out any affection in the first place. 

“It’s okay, Harls,” Peter said, quieter.

“I’m so sorry,” Harley croaked, and shuddered as Peter started running his fingers through his hair, paying special attention to the nape of his neck. 

“What are you sorry for?” Peter murmured gently, his voice soft. 

Harley swallowed. He had done everything but say it out loud. He didn’t know if he even could say it out loud. But if that’s what Peter wanted, he could do that for him. 

“I took advantage of you,” He managed, his voice coming out unsteady. He was about to lose Peter forever, and being enveloped in his embrace was only making it harder; the pain of it sharper. “I touched you even though you couldn’t consent, and I’m so sorry.” 

“What are you talking about?” Peter said suddenly, pulling back. 

“I’m sorry,” Harley said again, Peter’s face swimming in front of him. He tried to focus on how his eyebrows were bunching together. 

“Stop saying that,” Peter said, his Queens accent coming out thick. “When did you take advantage of me?”

Harley wanted to press his face into Peter’s shoulder. “You were drunk.”

“Oh my God,” Peter said, and it came out half-strangled. “So you don’t hate me?”

“I could never hate you,” Harley said automatically, his arms twitching around Peter, wanting to tug him closer. He was trying desperately to process everything that was in front of him, and what Peter was saying. 

“You don’t think I’m gross?” Peter asked shakily, pressing his cheek against Harley’s chest, his arms locked around Harley’s waist in the same motion. 

“No,” Harley said, swallowing down a lump in his throat, his heartbeat slowed, and his mind cleared. “You’re not gross. You’re the very opposite of gross.”

Peter made a little choked noise that had Harley’s stomach dropping before he said, “I was drunk but not _that_ drunk. You left, and I thought- I thought you regretted it. After I came in my pants like a _loser_ -“

Harley stopped him by cradling his jaw with both hands, his thumbs on his cheeks. “ _No_ ,” Harley said emphatically, and it nearly punched out of his chest. “You were perfect.”

Peter’s breath hitched. “You were saying all those nice things.” He gnawed on his lip as his eyes clouded over. “And then you wouldn’t look at me afterwards.” 

“You would turn the other way if you so much as saw me.” 

“Because you were avoiding me first!” Peter argued. “You just ghosted everyone.”

“I thought you would never want to see me again after what I did.” Harley told him honestly, still reeling over the fact that Peter had actually consented, and that he had wanted his touch. 

“Harley, I-“ Peter started, but cut himself off. “I don’t know where I stand with you, at all, but what happened at the party… I’d want to do it again.”

Nothing was said for a few moments.

“I can’t breathe when I’m around you,” Harley said suddenly, needing to get it out. His head was a jumbled mess, but it all came back to Peter, like he was his lighthouse. “But it‘s more than that, it’s like, I don’t need to breathe when I’m around you. I want to know what you think about everything, and what you’d say.” He took in a shuddering breath. “I was so terrified I lost that. I couldn’t lose that.”

“Can I kiss you?” Peter asked, like Harley would ever tell him no. 

“Yes,” Harley said, but he was already leaning in to kiss Peter. 

Peter went pliant as soon as they kissed. After a few seconds he pulled away, just long enough to murmur sternly, “Don’t ever.” He leaned in to kiss Harley again. He came up for air. “Shut me out.” This kiss was a little more frantic, and Harley was just along for the ride. He pulled back again. “Like that again.”

“I won’t.” Harley said immediately. He leaned down to kiss Peter, in complete awe that he could do that now. He probably always could have. The past few weeks could have been filled with Harley kissing Peter, if he hadn’t been so much of an idiot. 

He kissed Peter over and over again, slotting their mouths together. Harley brought a hand down gently, to rest on his hip. Peter backed up incrementally, while Harley followed, chasing his mouth. Peter pressed back against the lab table, the one that was mostly clear, and also bolted to the ground. Harley hitched Peter’s leg tentatively, but Peter hopped up onto it, going easily. 

Harley broke away from his mouth as he moved to stand in-between his legs. He couldn’t help smiling, and then let out a hysterical, slightly manic laugh. “You like me,” he said in disbelief, mixed with a little glee. 

“Harley, I-“ Peter said, then made a noise kind of like a sob, strangled in the back of his throat. 

Harley was heartbroken. 

“I’m halfway to being in love with you,” Peter said as Harley’s whole world shattered open. 

Harley wanted to drop to his knees, but he refrained. Instead, he put a hand on Peter’s thigh. It all felt so big, bigger than himself, and more than he deserved. 

Peter looked uncertain, then. Harley could sense he was close to squirming, and he couldn’t have that. He had to fix this. Peter should never be uncertain. He had to get his shit figured out, or he was going to lose him. 

“I think,” Harley said finally, deliberately, and looking Peter in the eye. Peter’s words echoed around in his brain: _‘I don’t know where I stand with you, at all’_ , and that wasn’t fair, Peter had to _know_. “I’m all the way in love with you.”

Peter softened. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but instead just reared Harley in for another kiss. “Fuck, I thought- I thought I disgusted you, or something, y’know, with the...” Peter trailed off, only an inch away from Harley’s mouth when he pulled back. 

“No,” Harley said. “God, Peter, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” 

“Really?” Peter breathed. 

“Really.” Harley confirmed, and then punctuated his point by kissing him, softly. 

“Harley, I-” Peter started, then cut himself off, biting his lip.

“What?” Harley pressed. “What do you want? Anything you want,” he breathed as Peter sighed. 

“I want you to touch me again, please,” Peter asked, so perfectly. 

Harley’s breath rattled as it left his throat, and his heart pounded in his ears. He nodded, words suddenly too much. He slipped a hand under Peter’s shirt to run his fingers over the smooth skin of his stomach. Goosebumps raised over his arms right after Peter shuddered. He roamed across Peter’s chest until he brought his hand down to rest over the waistband of his jeans. Peter made an encouraging noise, so he flipped open the top button. 

Harley had just started to nudge down the zipper, when what he felt stopped him in his tracks. He had been expecting the silken fabric of a pair of panties, or maybe even the raised texture of lace, instead, he was met with the feel of cotton boxers. His hand stilled. “Oh Peter, _no_ ,” his voice cracked. “Not because of me. Don’t tell me you stopped wearing them ‘cause of me.” He dropped his forehead down to rest on Peter’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” Peter said, and shifted his hips, probably to signal Harley to keep going. 

“It’s not okay,” Harley said. He kissed over Peter’s soft mouth tenderly, savoring it, and clinging onto the feeling that Peter wanted him. “You’re gorgeous,” He told Peter reverently. “So gorgeous. Doesn’t matter what you’re wearing.” 

“Harley-” Peter whined, his hands scrambling as they grasped onto Harley’s t-shirt in balled fists, tugging him closer. 

Harley kept going. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. God, the sounds you made, baby.” He kissed over Peter’s neck. Peter’s eyes fluttered closed as he tilted the side of his neck, giving Harley more access. One of his hands came up and got caught in the messy tangle of hair at the top of Harley’s head. 

Harley had just made his way up to Peter’s jaw and over to his mouth again, when Peter pushed him back. Harley broke away, and went with the momentum, albeit confusedly. When he looked at Peter his eyes were shining. 

“Sit on the chair,” He commanded. 

Harley was helpless to do anything other than obey, especially when Peter was eyeing him like that. 

He took the few steps back and sat down into the chair, not breaking eye contact.

Peter slipped off of the desk and came over to him. He straddled Harley easily, settling into his lap. The chair squeaked precariously under their combined weight, but held steady. Harley’s hands went up to grip around Peter’s hips automatically.

“Hi,” Peter whispered once he was close again.

“Hi,” Harley breathed back. 

Peter faltered, just for a second. “You don’t-” He started off strong, then stopped, studying Harley through a stray curl that had flopped into his face. “It’s not just the underwear, right?” 

“I meant what I said earlier,” Harley reiterated. “Doesn’t matter what you’re wearing.” 

Peter wrapped his arms around Harley’s neck. “We should probably move this to outside the lab,” He muttered into the skin of his neck.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never fantasized about being bent over a lab table.” 

He watched as Peter’s eyes darkened. His face morphed into that mischievous grin of his that was Harley’s favorite. “I don’t know if you’ve earned it yet, Keener.” 

“Oh I definitely haven’t,” Harley agreed, already making plans to bring Peter back to his dorm. 

🎀

It was a week later, and Harley was perched on _Peter’s_ dorm bed when Peter came out of his bathroom. 

His cheeks were flushed a dusty pink, and his hands twitched like he was fighting the urge to hide. He had nothing on but a pair of neon purple panties. There was a line of lace at the top, about three inches down from Peter’s belly button. The sides by Peter’s hips had criss-crossed strings that led to a thong in the back.

“Okay, so I know the blue ones are your favorite,” Peter said nervously, already starting to babble. Harley could only stare at him from the bed, taking him all in. He was so hot that Harley had to fight the urge to drool. How Peter thought he looked anything less than a million bucks was a mystery to him. “But the blue ones are also my favorite, and you said that you liked the purple ones. It just seemed like a waste if we’re just gonna get cum on them.” Peter’s face flushed even darker. “I mean-”

Harley laughed from the bed, mostly delighted, and not cruel at all. “You look amazing.” 

Peter looked doubtful, even as Harley reached forward and tugged him closer, so he was right up against the bed. “I don’t feel very sexy,” He admitted, looking down at his toes.

“I can assure you, you’re very sexy,” Harley told him earnestly, trying to commit this all to memory. Peter’s lips twitched into a little grin as Harley very clearly tried to search for words. “Sorry, I’m just...kind of short-circuiting right now.” 

Peter crawled on top of him on the bed, as Harley laid down, following his lead. Peter ran his hands up and down his arms. “Do you need me to turn you off and back on again?” 

“Baby,” Harley breathed. “I don’t think you could turn me off if you tried.” 

Harley accepted Peter’s snort of laughter as a victory. 

“Are you gonna touch me, or just ogle the merchandise?” Peter teased, wiggling above him.

“Oh I’m gonna touch,” Harley established, and brought one of his hands down to Peter’s ass. “I ain’t lettin’ you go now.” 

He traced over the pair of panties that Peter was wearing, paying careful attention to it. He slipped his hand under the band and tested how stretchy it was. It was cut well, but still left little red lines over Peter’s pale skin. 

“It’s not because I want to be a girl,” Peter said abruptly. Harley glanced over at him, but Peter looked away. “It’s not- it’s never been like that. I don’t want to be a girl.” 

“Okay,” Harley agreed easily. “Why do you wear them, then?” 

Peter’s lips went into a thin line before he nuzzled into Harley’s collarbone, hiding his face there. 

“It’s alright if you don’t want to tell me,” Harley soothed. He didn’t want to push Peter, or make him uncomfortable. 

“It’s embarrassing,” Peter murmured, his voice quiet and muffled. Harley waited him out, and used the time to acquaint himself with all of Peter’s smooth skin. 

“They-” Peter eventually said, then ducked his head right back down. “They make me feel pretty.” 

Harley wasn’t expecting the words to hit him like a punch in the gut, but they did. It was like a match had just been lit in his stomach, and he ached from the rush of arousal. 

“You’re _so_ pretty,” Harley told him, his voice unintentionally dropping down an octave. “So fucking pretty.” 

“Harley-” Peter whined, and started rocking his hips. 

Harley leaned down to suck a bruise into Peter’s neck, at the tender spot right under his jaw. “Pretty baby,” Harley crooned as Peter keened. He pulled back a bit, just enough to say, “I wanna watch you cum again.” 

“Yeah?” Peter inquired, his eyes bright enough to get lost in. “You- yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Harley intoned, and could feel himself smiling. 

He flipped them so that Peter was laying out on the bed. His dick was hard, straining and stretched against the purple fabric of his panties, obscenely. Harley’s own baggy boxers and t-shirt felt lame in comparison. Peter was a renaissance painting that Harley got to witness. The light from the window lit up his skin, and the vividness of the purple stood out. All the colors swirled together like oil on a canvas, and Harley was transfixed. 

Harley sucked a line down from Peter’s collarbones, to his sternum, and then over his stomach. He looked up at Peter once he got eye-level with his hips. Peter’s hands were in his hair, and it mirrored their first time. 

“I’m never gonna stop getting you off,” Harley said, and slipped a finger underneath the slits of string at the side of Peter’s panties. “Not when you’re so pretty like this.” Harley’s mouth dropped open as he sucked over Peter’s bugle. But this time, he wasn’t going to stop there. 

Harley tugged on the sides of Peter’s panties until they bunched around Peter’s thighs, and Peter’s cock was exposed. It slapped against Peter’s stomach. He moaned, and then twisted his face into the pillow. 

“Nuh uh,” Harley said, placing kisses all over his thighs. “Wanna see you, wanna see my pretty baby.” 

Peter keened again, his hips twitching up. Harley held him down with one of his hands. He didn’t move until Peter slowly peeled his face back, showing his ruddy cheeks, and a mess of waves around his ears. Harley rewarded him by bringing his cock into his mouth. He licked the underside first, just to get a taste, before he sucked the head of Peter’s cock, and let it pass his lips. 

“Oh fuck!” Peter exclaimed from beneath him. Harley’s grip on his slender hips was the only thing keeping him from bucking up and choking him. “Fuck, Harley,” he whimpered, arching, and straining, showing off the columns of his throat. He had a red mark already blooming, and Harley wanted to eat him alive. 

Harley sucked him down, hollowing his cheeks, and tucking in his teeth. Peter was a symphony of noises from where was, and Harley didn’t think he’d ever get sick of hearing him. He pulled back after a minute, just to get a breather. Peter was glassy-eyed, and his flush had spread, turning his chest a bright pink. 

“Have you ever gotten head before, baby?” He found himself asking, his voice slightly hoarse. Peter bit his lip, but then shook his head. Harley’s heart pounded in his chest. “Does it feel good?”

“Feels so good,” Peter was quick to say, and reached out for Harley. 

Harley grabbed onto his hand and laced their fingers together. “Wanna see you,” Harley whispered, kissing over one of Peter’s hip bones. “Y’know, these were the first pair I ever saw,” Harley said, gesturing towards Peter’s panties. 

“How?” Peter asked, his voice coming out crackly. 

“You bent over in the lab one day,” Harley started, and placed a kiss on his hip. “And I saw them, just for a second.”

“What did you think?”

Harley looked at him, and squeezed his hand. “I thought: this is none of my business, but also, this boy is way too hot to be real.”

“You really mean that?” Peter asked, sounding unsure, and that wasn’t right in Harley’s book. 

“Let me show you,” Harley muttered in the skin of Peter’s stomach. He brought Peter back into his mouth, while Peter squeezed his hand in turn. It didn’t take long for Peter to start moaning loudly, his voice only rising in pitch. He panted, and his chest heaved from the labor of his breaths, until he came down Harley’s throat. Harley swallowed all of it, and used the thumb of his one free hand to wipe away at a few drops that had slipped down his chin. 

Harley tucked Peter back into his panties, and kissed a zigzag up and down Peter’s thigh as he came back to Earth. 

Eventually, once he was coherent, Peter used their joined hands to reel Harley up and on top of him. He kissed Harley desperately, all tongue, and with a little bit of teeth. Harley groaned when Peter slid one of his hands under his boxers, and wrapped a hand around his cock. Peter gave Harley a grin of pure delight, his eyes alight. 

“Now it’s my turn to make you come.” Peter breathed, and then nipped at a spot right by Harley’s pulse point. 

Harley rolled his hips into it, and smiled - he couldn’t wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr, twitter, or discord @venomondenim. i love comments, and your kudos means the world. stay safe, homies.


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